Blending
by Kathryn Claire O'Connor
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on the different signs that the Beardsleys and Norths are becoming one big, blended family. Probable nine-shot that will include every member of the family at one point or another.
1. Chapter 1

William Beardsley wasn't sure that he had ever been this exhausted in his life. But then, he had never captained his father's boat in the name of saving his father and step-mother's marriage, either. He stretched back across his bed, staring at the opposite wall, or, more specifically, at the red eyes that Dylan had spray-painted onto the wall on his side of the room. William sighed, rolling his eyes back to look at the walls that he could claim as his own. Save for a shelf of books above his desk, they were just a blank, white space. After spending so much time around the vibrant Norths – and their decorating preferences – his own space looked drab in comparison. He stared at the blank wall for a second, thinking that since he now knew that they would be staying in the lighthouse for quite some time to come maybe he ought to spruce it up somehow.

But how?

His eyes flickered to Dylan's space and back again before his eyes landed once more on the painted glare, and an idea began to form in his head. He mulled it over for a second before deciding that it might be worth a try. He sprung up from his bed and out of the bedroom, going in search of Dylan.

William finally located his brother behind the house, taking a can of spray paint to a canvas. "Hey, Dylan?" he called out, stopping far enough away that the paint fumes didn't reach him.

"Yeah?" Dylan asked, turning away from his latest masterpiece.

"You know that huge roll of paper you've got?"

Dylan eyed him curiously, saying, "The one that I cut pieces off of to tack up on my easel and paint? The one that I'm using as we speak?"

William barely refrained from stammering as he said, "Yeah, that's the one."

"Well… what about it?"

"Do you mind if I use a piece or two of it?"

The artist nearly snorted, asking, "For what?"

You'll see later," William smirked adding, "But only if you let me use it."

"Alright," Dylan gestured at the paper. "Take however much you want."

"Thanks."

"No problem, bro."

* * *

Three days later, Helen North-Beardsley came into Dylan and William's room carrying a basket of their laundry, and instantly yelped in surprise when she saw what had been done to William's wall. While the subject wasn't one characteristic of Dylan the action was, so she screamed for her son, ready to give him the ninth degree over what she assumed he had done to William's space.

"What's up?" Dylan asked, jogging into the doorway of the room.

"_That_ is what is up," she replied, pointing sharply to the wall.

Dylan's eyes widened as he looked at it. "Whoa!"

"So you're going to tell me that you don't know anything about this?" Helen asked.

"I don- Hold on."

With his eyebrows drawn together into a frown, he angled past her and went over to William's side of the room, picking up one of his paintings from off of the floor. No, wait, that wasn't a painting.

"Mom, this is a stencil," he held the evidence up for her to see clearly. "I don't use stencils, you know that. I didn't paint that."

"I did." William spoke up proudly, coming to stand behind Helen as he looked between her and Dylan, then at the navy blue rendition of the eagle from the United States Navy emblem that was on his wall.

"This is the paper you got from me, right?" Dylan asked. "You used it to make a stencil of the Navy emblem's eagle?"

William nodded, asking, "What do you think?"

"Not bad for an amateur," Dylan said with a teasing smirk and eyes that held an almost proud gaze, looking first at the wall and then at William.

"What about you, Helen?" William asked her.

"I think it looks great, William," Helen said with a smile that was probably a little wider than the boys would warrant as necessary.

But the truth was, as she looked between the eyes on Dylan's wall and the emblem on William's she saw more than just paintings. She saw that, while all of the people in this family were retaining their individuality, they were becoming one family at the same time. She saw a sign that they were finally blending.

* * *

**The first in a series of drabbles/one-shots centered about some of the small signs that the Beardsleys and Norths are blending into one big family post-movie. I'm going to try and include each of the children in at least one chapter. ****This is my first stab at this category, so I would really appreciate some feedback on how you think I'm doing. Thanks!:)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you about done with that computer?" Phoebe asked Christina the next day, coming up behind her in the dining room. "Every computer in this house is being used and I need to type up a report for school."

"Um… yeah, sure; just let me finish putting my order in, okay?" Christina replied casually.

"That's fine," Phoebe said, looking over her step-sister's shoulder and asking. "Shopping for more clothes?"

"Yeah. There's a sale going on; don't judge me."

"I'm not," Phoebe assured. She squinted at the screen adding as she pointed to a shirt, "As a matter of fact, that's really cute. Could you order me one?"

Surprised, Christina twisted around to look Phoebe in the eye, asking, "Really?"

"Yeah; why not? It's not expensive, and I'll be sure to pay you back."

Christina turned back around to look at the computer and realized that since she had scrolled down the screen, Phoebe couldn't see the brand name's banner across the top of the page. The blonde smiled, almost to herself, turning back to the computer and adding the top to her order. "Okay. Whatever you want, sis."

Phoebe playfully elbowed her shoulder, teasing, "You should remember that line."

"You just remember that you wanted this thing, okay?" Christina said cryptically.

Phoebe looked at her curiously before saying, "Sure. Did you really order so much stuff that you won't be able to remember what one thing is mine?"

"No, that's not what I meant."

"Well, what did you mean, then?"

"You'll have to wait and see," Christina said, exiting the internet and leaving her seat with a falsely haughty flourish. "It's all yours."

Phoebe slid into the chair that her step-sister had just vacated and looked over her shoulder, watching Christina leave the room. For some reason, the cheerleader was hiding something about that clothing order, and they both knew it. Turning back to the computer, Phoebe decided that her report could wait a few more minutes, and looked up the last website visited on the computer's history. When she saw the site's name, her eyes widened and she clicked on the link, just to be sure that it was the same website that Christina had just ordered off of. It was.

Phoebe closed her eyes, threw her head back, and groaned loudly. No possible way had she just asked Christina to order her something from _this_ website.

She jumped, feeling someone place their hands on her shoulders. Her mom.

"What's wrong, honey?" Helen asked. "Is your report not working out?"

Phoebe cracked open an eye, saying, "No, it's nothing with my report, that's fine." She pointed at the offensive website that she had just pulled up. "It's this."

Helen raised an eyebrow. "The J. Crew website?"

Phoebe sat up straight and looked at her mother in surprise, saying, "You knew what website this was, and you let me order something off of it?!"

Helen raised both eyebrows now. "You ordered something from J. Crew?"

Phoebe was practically whining as she said, "I saw Christina was doing some online shopping, I saw a cute top and I asked her to order it for me. I didn't know it was J. Crew!"

"But you do like the shirt?" Helen confirmed.

"Yeah…" Phoebe admitted.

"Then I don't see the problem, Phoebe. So what if Christina's rubbing off on you? That's what sisters are supposed to do."

Phoebe turned back around to face the laptop and sighed. "Yeah, that is what sisters are for, huh?"

"Yeah," Helen agreed, kissing Phoebe's hair before turning to go about her business.

"Between Christina and that shirt, I think I may be turning into a Beardsley, Mom."

Helen turned back to her daughter and laughed. "You're becoming a great mix of both, honey. I'd wear it with pride if I were you."

"Which?" Phoebe asked. "The shirt or the Beardsley-ness?"

"Both," Helen declared with a loving smile.

Phoebe nodded, laughing to herself as she began to type up her report, repeating, "Both."

* * *

**This is my first stab at this category, so as always I would really appreciate some feedback on how you think I'm doing. Thanks!:)**


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you working on your homework?" Harry asked, sitting down beside Naoko on the couch as he eyed the notebook in her lap.

Naoko glanced at Harry before turning her eyes back to her notebook and saying, "No, it's Friday night; I can do my homework tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, could I see your notes then, for our class' science test when you're done with them?"

"You didn't take any of your own?" Naoko asked, glancing at him again.

"I did, but they don't make any sense. You've figured out by now that science is Greek to me."

"What about Jimi's notes?" Naoko asked, chewing absently on her pen as she kept her gaze fixated on her notebook. "Believe it or not, he's really awesome at science."

"I know," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes. "But then he does his science homework on the bus home and destroys his notes so that no one can know how good he is at it. Embarrassed over being smart; what a horrible problem he has. "

Naoko snorted, her eyes still glued to her paper. "I know, right?"

"Yeah, really."

"You can use my notes, if you want to," Naoko said. "Do you want me to go get them for you now?"

"Nah, I think you're right. I'll worry about that tomorrow." Harry settled back on the couch, asking, "So, what _are_ you doing?"

"Trying to pick out an idea for my next video."

"Cool. Do you want some help?"

Naoko finally looked up from her paper, watching him carefully during a second of silence during which Harry barely resisted the urge to squirm. Was it that rare for him to offer in a civil tone to do something nice?

"Are you sure you want to?" Naoko asked.

"Yeah?" Harry shrugged. "Why not? I think the whole video-making thing that you do is cool."

Naoko raised an eyebrow, asking, "Really?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay," Naoko said slowly,

She shifted so that he could come closer and read over her list of ideas, which he did. Scanning quickly over the list, he squinted, saying, "A lot of these ideas sound a lot like my family – the Beardsleys, I mean."

"Half of them are from the North part," Naoko pointed out.

"Why not mix an idea from each family and make it into one video? I mean, we know from personal experience that can be pretty entertaining."

Naoko looked at him out of the corner of her eye, a smile slowly growing across her face. "I like it." She teased, elbowing him, "You can be pretty useful when you want to be, Beardsley."

Harry knocked his shoulder against hers in response as he smiled, saying, "You're not always too bad yourself, North."

Naoko shrugged, saying airily, "I know."

* * *

**Not sure how this became pairing-ish - or if maybe I'm even the only one seeing it that way - but, oh well, I'm okay with it either way. ****This is my first stab at this category, so as always I would really appreciate some feedback on how you think I'm doing. Thanks!:)**


	4. Chapter 4

Helen screwed her eyes shut, covering her ears to muffle the screeching sounds coming from Naoko, Joni, and Kelly's room. Whatever it was, it wasn't a kid, or even a combination of kids. Another blast wafted out from behind the closed door, and only then was she able to identify the noise. It sounded like something was wrong with Joni's saxophone again.

Helen cracked open the bedroom door and opened her mouth, prepared to ask her daughter if there was anything that could be done to help the sax. Seeing what the scene before her was, though, Helen clamped her mouth shut and just watched for a second.

Joni and Kelly were both sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, and it was Kelly who held the sax rather than Joni. The North of the two girls appeared to be trying to teach her new step-sister how to play the instrument. Regardless of the fact that the efforts that both were putting forth appeared to be failing, they both appeared to be enjoying themselves.

Helen hated to put a stop to it, but thankfully Kelly did that on her own after only another couple seconds.

The soccer player set the saxophone aside turned to the musician, asking, "Are you ready to try my part of the deal?" Kelly smiled, acknowledging her own inaptitude at the instrument as she added, "Maybe you'll have better luck with it then I am with this."

"Aw, don't give up on yourself already!" Joni implored. "The sax can be fun; it just takes time and practice to get used to… and to get good at."

"Kind of like soccer," Kelly said, jumping off of the floor and grabbing her ball. As Helen hurried away down the hall before she was noticed by the girls, she heard Kelly add, "Come on; let's go grab a couple more people to play with us."

Twenty minutes later, Helen was standing in the kitchen washing some dishes in the sink with Frank at her side drying them when they heard the giddy laughter coming through the open window from the yard.

"What is that?" Frank asked with a small smile.

"Come look," Helen encouraged, gesturing for him to join her at the window. "It's some of the kids."

Stepping up beside her to look out the window, Frank did a quick headcount of the kids that he saw as he wrapped an arm around his wife's waist. "Jimi, Kelly, Joni, Lau, Ely, Otter, Bina, Marisa. Hm," his smile widened as he said, "I think that's neat."

The older four of the group were kicking a soccer ball around the yard while the younger four stood around the designated circle in which they were playing, each shouting encouragements to one of their siblings.

Upon seeing that Marisa was rooting for Kelly, Frank murmured, "That's a very smart six year old. She knows where the gold is at."

"Hey, my kids aren't doing very badly at all!"

"They're our kids," Frank reminded pulling her close. "And you're right; they're doing very well."

Bina had started up a chant for Jimi, Ely was cheering for Joni, and Otter seemed to be feeding encouragement to Lau.

"Wait a second," Frank paused. "_Lau_ is playing sports."

"He likes sports, Frank," Helen informed her husband. "He just knows that the others are better at them and that he's better than them at helping me with my designs, so that's what he does more often."

"Ah, I see," Frank nodded, still transfixed on watching their kids in the yard. "It's really nice to see them getting along so well, you know it?"

Helen agreed, "It is. And you know what? I think that we're going to be seeing a lot more of it in the future."

* * *

******This is my first stab at this category, so as always I would really appreciate some feedback on how you think I'm doing. Thanks!:)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Ow! Ow!"

Drawn by the exclamations that seemed to be coming from the tree at the park, Michael wandered away from watching the older kids play basketball and peered up into the branches, shading his eyes from the sun.

"Mick," he asked, spotting his step-brother among the foliage. "What are you doing?"

"There's a kitten up there," Mick explained. "A few branches away. He starts hissing at me whenever I come any closer than this, but he's too young to know how to get back down once he got up here. If somebody doesn't help him by getting him down, he's just going to end up falling."

"He's a cat, Mick, he'll land on his feet," Michael sighed.

"But still…" Mick practically whined.

Michael sighed and began to haul himself up the tree. "Alright, let me see if I can come help."

Eventually he reached a satisfactory limb on which to sit – on the opposite side of the cat as his brother but just a little closer to the animal.

"Hey, kitty…" Michael murmured, hoping he didn't sound as awkward as he felt.

The kitten noticed him then, looking rapidly back and forth between him and Mick as he viciously trembled and hissed at them.

"See, look how scared he is," Mick said pityingly.

Michael scowled. Yeah, he saw that Mick was right; the cat was scared, but he also looked ready to try and scratch the eyes out of either one or both of them.

Mick leaned forward, reaching for the cat once again, saying soothingly, "Hey, there, little guy. You just wanna get back on the ground, don't you?"

The orange ball of fluff whipped away from Mick's outstretched hand, slipping as he lost his footing on his perch. Michael lashed out, grabbing onto the kitten just before the animal pitched towards the ground. Instead of cutting his hand to ribbons like Michael had expected the tabby to, he just stayed still in Michael's hand, trembling harder than ever. Across the tree, Mick regained a firmer seat in the tree, catching his breath. Michael did the same, pulling the kitten to his body and running his free hand over the long orange fur in an effort to stop the poor thing's trembling. Now that the little guy had stopped resisting his and Mick's efforts to help him out, Michael could see what Mick already had. The kitten was really kind of cute.

Once he was sure that his new friend wasn't going to try and jump out of his arms as he made his way down the tree, Michael climbed back down until his feet hit solid ground.

Seeing what he held in his arms, a lot of the other kids surrounded him, exclaiming over the kitten as Mick swung feet-first onto the ground beside him.

"What did you boys find there?" Helen asked, looking between him and Mick.

"A kitten," Mick answered, explaining, "He was stuck in the tree and Michael helped me get him down."

Helen turned to him, raising her eyebrows as she asked, "You did?"

Michael nodded, feeling a little proud of himself as he got closer to her so that she could see the kitten.

"I see," Helen said with a smile.

"Hey, Helen?" Michael asked, shifting nervously on his feet as he looked up at her. Mick was a pro at doing this, but he had never tried it before and he didn't know what to do or expect.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think…? Could I keep him? I promise he won't be any trouble and I'll take very good care of him."

Helen smiled, ruffling his hair. "I think that would be just fine, Michael."

Michael grinned, impulsively hugging her. "Thanks, Mom."

Helen blinked – he had surprised her again – and said, "You're welcome, son."

* * *

******This is my first stab at this category, so as always I would really appreciate some feedback on how you think I'm doing. Thanks!:)**


	6. Chapter 6

"A cat?" Kelly asked in surprise, slapping the towel that she was using down onto the stove as she looked away from the grilled cheese that she was making and turned to Jimi with widening eyes. "Our brother Michael – the one who loves the animal hunting aspects of Boy Scouts – asked Helen if he could keep a rescued cat?"

Jimi nodded, calling Mick over when he saw the younger boy enter the kitchen. "Michael asked to keep that cat y'all found, right?"

"Yeah," Mick said, looking between Jimi and Kelly, saying, "And Mom let him. I was rather proud of him for asking to begin with. The two of them seem to have taken to one another very well."

"Huh," Kelly laughed breathily before frowning and taking a whiff of the air.

She screamed as all three of them noticed at the same time. The flame underneath the sandwich pan had caught the towel on fire!

"Back up!" Jimi ordered the younger two, grabbing a non-burning corner of the towel and throwing it down onto the tile floor.

He stamped heavily down upon it with his work-boot-covered foot until the fire was extinguished.

That task accomplished, Jimi turned back to his siblings and asked, "Are you okay, Kelly?"

She nodded and when Jimi turned his gaze to Mick, the other boy nodded as well, catching his breath.

For the rest of the day, that event stuck with Mick, and that night after he had done some of his homework, he found himself starting in on a different project. By working on it off and on, he had it done to his satisfaction by the end of the week, and then he showed it to his roommates –Jimi, Harry, Michael, and Lau.

"I'll admit it," Harry said, looking over Mick's shoulder at the piece of paper that he held. "I am impressed."

"Really?" Mick stammered. "Thanks, Harry."

"What are you impressed by?" William asked, poking his head into the room.

Harry turned towards their oldest brother, answering, "Mick's fire escape chart."

"Fire escape chart?" William repeated in surprise, making his way over so that he could see the chart as well. "You know," he muttered to himself under his breath. "In a house this big…" His eyes lost their glazed, concentrating look and he turned to Mick and asked, "Do you mind if I borrow this chart for a little bit?"

Mick shrugged, feeling flustered at how big a deal was being made out of the piece of paper. "Sure."

"Thanks," William smiled, took the paper, and loped out of the room.

* * *

"Mick made this?" Frank said, looking up from the piece of paper that William had put in his hands.

William nodded, a glimmer of respect for the kid shining in his eyes.

"I'm impressed," Frank said, raising his eyebrows.

William smiled, telling him, "That's what Harry said too."

Frank stared at the chart for another minute before asking, "Do you know where Mick is?"

"In his room, last I saw him," William answered.

"Thanks," Frank said, suddenly all business as he headed in that direction.

* * *

"Hey, Mick?" Frank knocked on the doorjamb of the boys' bedroom door as he came in.

Mick looked up from where he was reading a comic book on his bed, asking, "Yeah?"

Frank held up the piece of paper, coming to sit beside Mick on the bed.

"Oh," Mick said softly, looking back down at his comic book. "Did William show you that?"

"Yeah, and I'm glad that he did. This is a very good chart, Mick; a good plan. You know that right?"

Mick shrugged. "It wasn't hard to come up with."

"Well, still, with all of the people in this house, I have a feeling that things would get crazy here if there ever was a large house-fire. We need a chart like this hanging around the house in a few places just so that people can remember what to do if something does go wrong. Do you mind if I make a few copies of your chart here and make sure that each bedroom has one?"

Mick shrugged, feeling extremely pleased that the admiral liked his work that much. "Sure you can. If you think it's that good."

"I do," Frank assured him. "If I didn't know better, I would've thought that a Beardsley came up with this."

Mick smiled at him, saying with a smile, "Well, maybe I'm starting to consider myself a Beardsley."

Frank smiled, saying, "I'd be proud if you did."

* * *

******This is my first stab at this category, so as always I would really appreciate some feedback on how you think I'm doing. Thanks!:)**


	7. Chapter 7

"Hey, look at this!" Helen said cheerfully, rounding a corner of the house to see four of her youngest children kneeling and hard at work in Bina and Marisa's garden.

Bina, Marisa, Otter, and Ely all lifted equally dirty and smiling faces up to her.

"I thought that you boys didn't like your sisters' garden," Helen stated, crouching down beside them to view their surprisingly fruitful efforts.

"We used to didn't like to…" Otter started.

Ely finished, "But then we saw that the flowers made people happy…"

"So now we like it!" the boys chorused.

Helen smiled dotingly, saying, "Good; I'm glad to hear it. So who's doing what?"

"I always take care of the roses," Bina said with a sweet smile.

Marisa added, "I do the tulips."

"I grow the poppies," Ely said cheerfully.

"And I take care of the sunflowers, since they're the biggest!" Otter declared proudly.

"That's great, you guys," Helen said happily. She pushed herself back onto her feet, glad to see her children working together. "Then I'll leave you to it."

She turned to go, thereby missing the looks that flashed between the quartet of twins. A minute later, the four ran up to her, each holding a flower.

"Here," Otter said, blushing a little as he handed her one of his sunflowers.

"Why, thank you, Otter!" Helen said, happily surprised.

Ely just smiled as he handed her a poppy, and then Bina and Marisa added a rose and a tulip to her small bouquet.

"Thank you so much!" Helen said cheerfully. "What is all of this for?"

"It made you happy to see our garden…" Marisa started.

Bina finished, "So we thought that you should get to take some of that happiness inside with you."

"After all," Ely added. "You deserve to be the happiest…"

Otter explained, "Because you're the hardest-working mom anywhere."

"How do you know that?" Helen asked with raised eyebrows.

"You've got _eighteen_ kids!" Otter reminded her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah," Helen said, her eyes misting as she looked down at the four of them. "Yeah, I do have eighteen very awesome kids."

She knelt down and pulled them all in to one big bear hug, then watched as they all ran back to their garden, laughing and playing.

* * *

**The first actual drabble of them all. ********This is my first stab at this category, so as always I would really appreciate some feedback on how you think I'm doing. Thanks!:)**


	8. Chapter 8

Ethan noticed Bina and Marisa doing it first. Then Mick started doing it too. Not long after that, his older Beardsley siblings seemed to come to an unspoken agreement, and they started doing it all the time, not just part of the time like they used to before the admiral had married the Beardsley kids' new mom.

Before long, Aldo took the habit up as well, and that's when Ethan really started taking notice. Joni was next, and then Lau. It took a little longer, but eventually Naoko, Jimi, and Phoebe started doing it too.

It was only when Dylan, of all people, finally started making a habit of doing it as well that Ethan noticed that he was now the only one of his seventeen siblings that didn't do it all of the time. But he had never been sure of whether or not he should, so he had erred on the side of caution and tried to avoid doing it, just in case.

Even so, he caught himself letting the word slip out more and more. It wasn't like it was a bad word – he knew full well that it wasn't – but he had practically never used it, so it had always felt weird on his tongue. Hearing it so much though had made it seem less weird, and the more he said it, the less funny and more normal it seemed. So, finally, Ethan started doing it all the time, just like his seventeen older siblings.

And the funny thing was that as much as his dad had liked being called "Admiral" before the Norths had come along, it sure seemed that he liked it best when Ethan called him "Dad" now.

* * *

**The second actual drabble of them all. ********This is my first stab at this category, so as always I would really appreciate some feedback on how you think I'm doing. Thanks!:)**


	9. Chapter 9

Getting eighteen kids onto the bus on time five days a week was no small task, as the Beardsley-Norths had found out soon after Frank and Helen had married. Still, in some ways, the habits that had been established in their separate homes were carried over into their collective one. Christina and Kelly had always fixed breakfast for the Beardsley's, and they both still assisted Helen in the kitchen during school mornings. They had even roped Phoebe and Joni helping as well. William had always done fifteen pushups before he left his bedroom in the morning, and no matter how much Dylan rolled his eyes over it, that hadn't changed. The artist had even done some of his own on a couple of occasions.

Those were a couple of the habits that while maybe they hadn't technically stayed the same, they had shifted a little. Helen's favorite "shifted habit" of each school morning, though, was the one that she knew took place every morning in Phoebe and Christina's bedroom.

Just like they had every morning when they was just the North household, after Bina and Marisa had finished getting dressed in the tiny room that only the two six year olds shared they tumbled down the stairs searching for their oldest sister so that she could fix their hair. Used to, Phoebe had done it right there in the kitchen while they ate, but that was no longer doable since they always tried to have a sit-down breakfast nowadays. Said sit-down breakfast had also cut into the amount of time that the kids actually had to get ready for school, so – she would find out later that it was due to these two aforementioned factors – Helen had started to realize that she was losing her two oldest kitchen assistants once Bina and Marisa would come down the stairs.

Once, she had purposely paid attention to when Phoebe and Christina had left and – a couple of minutes later, when she could get away for long enough without burning the bacon – went upstairs to find out what was going on. Finally, she had tracked the four girls into Phoebe and Christina's bedroom, where – angling herself so that her daughter's couldn't see her – she had found Phoebe and Bina sitting cross-legged on the redhead's bed and Christina and Marisa doing likewise on Christina's bed. The four girls had been chattering away to one another, getting in some good sisterly bonding time while the older two braided the hair of the younger two. Over the next week, Helen had checked every school day, realizing that the girls had somehow adapted this North family habit without her noticing it.

She had smiled softly upon seeing the scene, realizing that it was just one more – and one extremely cute – way that her children and step-children were blending into the one unusually big, happy family that she and Frank had originally envisioned upon their marriage.

* * *

******This is the last chapter of this story! Thanks for reading!:)**


End file.
